


Grin And Bear It

by Narya_Flame



Series: Homeward Bound [5]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Modern Era, Multi, Post-Canon, Stuffed Toys, Very Literal Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 12:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya_Flame/pseuds/Narya_Flame
Summary: Sören and Claire are helping out at Claire's cousins' birthday party.  They get slightly distracted.A very silly, very fluffy one-shot set in the Homeward Bound 'verse.





	Grin And Bear It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verhalen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verhalen/gifts).



_**April 2010** _  
_Sheffield, England_

_If I ever have children,_ Claire thought, _I am not holding their birthday parties at Build-A-Bear._  
  
The Meadowhall branch of the stuffed toy chain was full of pre-schoolers in party hats. Some sat quietly, playing with their new furry friends; a significant number were running around shrieking, giddy from sugar, in some cases clutching a yet-to-be-stuffed animal under their arm. Her young cousins, Amber and Ben, sat at the centre of the chaos, identical “I'm Four Today” badges pinned to their chocolate-stained party clothes. Harrison sat with them, an expression of strained patience on his face as Ben made his new toy moose clamber up and down his arm. He caught Claire looking and mouthed, _Help me._  
  
Claire blew him a kiss and smiled sweetly back.  
  
“OK?” Fiona asked her, pausing on her way to refill glasses of lemonade.   
  
“I'm good.” Claire grinned at the sight of her usually-immaculate aunt with her hair scraped back in a messy ponytail. Fiona's face was bare of makeup, and she wore skinny jeans and a striped top in place of her usual tailored shift dress. “You?”  
  
“I'm fine – just about.” Fiona shook her head. “Carnage, isn't it? I don't know what I was thinking...oh no, Freddie, sweetheart, that one isn't yours...”  
  
She darted off to rescue one of the display animals from sticky four-year-old fingers. Claire giggled – and then she spotted Sören, helping a little girl with wispy brown hair pick out a dress for her giraffe.  
  
“What's Miss Mango's favourite colour?” Claire heard him ask as she wandered over.  
  
She bit back a snort at the giraffe's name. _You have tortoises named Copernicus and Moriel. You have_ no _room to talk._  
  
Her husband of six months looked up and smiled as the little girl whispered, “Blue.”  
  
“That's my favourite colour too,” he told her. “OK...how about...this one?”  
  
When they were done dressing Miss Mango the giraffe, Claire pulled Sören into a hug. “Having fun?”  
  
“So much fun.” He looked wistfully around, and Claire knew without asking what was going through his head. _I wish I'd been able to do this when I was little._  
  
Anger like white fire shot through her. She was glad she'd never met Katrín and Einar. She'd never forgive them for what they'd done to Sören – and Dagnýr, and Margrét, and Ari.   
  
Sören brushed her hair back, a frown crinkling his sweet features. “ _Elskan?_ ”  
  
She breathed in and settled her anger. It would keep for later. Her sudden, silly idea would not. “Why don't we have a go?”  
  
Sören's brown eyes lit. “Really?”  
  
“Yes, really. I think we deserve a reward for helping Fiona herd around all these snot-nosed brats.” She took his hands and towed him over to the bins of unstuffed toys near the store's entrance. “Come on. Let's make a teddy bear.”  
  
In the end only Claire chose a traditional bear – a honey-coloured creature with long fur and a doleful expression. Sören picked out a glittery, wide-eyed, rainbow-coloured rabbit.  
  
“To go with my blue bunny,” he explained, grinning.  
  
Claire smiled, though she felt resentment simmer inside her once again. When Sören had moved to the UK, he'd brought with him the tattered scraps of a blue stuffed rabbit wrapped up in a pillow case. His mother had made it for him, and his uncle Einar had ripped it to shreds in a drunken rage, insisting that grown men shouldn't need soft toys. Sören had believed it ruined beyond repair, but had kept it anyway as a reminder of his mamma; Claire's grandmother, on hearing the story, had pursed her lips and offered to take a look. The bunny had been returned some weeks later, not quite as good as new, but meticulously stitched back together, re-stuffed and carefully cleaned.  
  
“Claire?” Sören held up the rainbow rabbit's head and made it nod up and down like a ventriloquist's puppet. “Sparkle Bunny says you shouldn't look so grumpy on your cousins' birthday.”  
  
She burst out laughing, unable to help herself.  
  
“You know, that's bordering on disturbing.” Evidently Harrison had escaped from Amber and Ben's attentions, and his voice in her ear was amused. “What are you guys _doing?_ ”  
  
“What does it look like?”  
  
Harrison raised his eyebrows as Claire held up her teddy for inspection. “You're so weird.”  
  
Claire slipped her arm through his. “Yes. And?”  
  
He laughed and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “Do you have to go back in the morning? I've barely seen you.”  
  
“You have school first thing tomorrow,” she pointed out gently.  
  
“Ugh, don't remind me.”  
  
“Don't worry, bro.” Sören put his arms around both of them. “Four more months and you'll be up in Scotland with us.”  
  
“Assuming I do well in my exams.” Harrison's offer from St Andrews had come through just a few weeks ago, though the grades he needed were going to be a challenge, to say the least.  
  
“You will,” Claire assured him, though she couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt that she hadn't encouraged her cousin to apply for any of the big London drama schools. She had been so wrapped up in the aftermath of the accident and her long road to recovery - and then the move, and the wedding, and the happy haze of their honeymoon in Paris. Meanwhile, Cyril and Jo had persuaded Harrison to play it safe, encouraging him to get a traditional degree, and then pursue a musical theatre career afterwards if it was still what he wanted. Claire had to admit, though, it would be wonderful to have Harrison in the same town. She'd missed him painfully these last few months.  
  
“And in the meantime, you need some company.” Sören led Harrison over to the piles of unstuffed toys. “Pick one.”  
  
Harrison looked horrified. “No way.”  
  
“Go on.” Claire nudged him in the ribs.  
  
“Look – they even have dinosaurs.” Sören held up a tyrannosaurus rex. “ _'Please take me home...'_ ”  
  
Harrison opened his mouth to protest again – then shook his head and grinned. “Fine. You're on. But I'm not dressing it up.”  
  
Fifteen minutes later the three of them were the proud owners of a new stuffed toy each. Fiona noticed them clustered around the counter together, giggling, and gave an indulgent smile.  
  
“I can't believe you guys made me do that,” Harrison laughed.   
  
“Can't you?” Sören posed with his new bunny.  
  
“Where are you even going to keep those?” Harrison asked, then added with a teasing glint, “Your bed's crowded enough as it is.”  
  
Claire snorted. “Careful, or I'll make you live on university catering next year...Sören, love, what is it?”  
  
Sören's eyes had widened into an expression of joy and mischief. “I have an idea.”  
  
“I know what you're going to say,” Harrison grinned.  
  
“What?” demanded Claire.  
  
“It's such a shame that Mark couldn't make it down this weekend.” Harrison's expression was angelic.   
  
“ _Oh._ ” Claire's lips curved upwards. “You think we should take him a souvenir?”  
  
“It's only fair.” Sören nodded solemnly. “He'd want to know we were thinking of him.”  
  
Claire eyed the buckets of options – teddy bears in all colours, wolves, lions, tigers, elephants, Disney characters, hairy green monsters... “Where do we start?”  
  
*  
  
They texted Mark from the train the next day, letting him know what time they were due to arrive at Leuchars. He replied almost straight away, promising to pick them up and asking after Claire's family.  
  
_Family all good,_ she typed back. _And we brought you a present._  
  
The pause before his response was slightly longer this time. _No more pets, I hope?_  
  
Sören batted his lashes, even though Mark wasn't there to see. “Would we do that? Without asking him?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Well, in any case, the last one was his fault.”  
  
Claire replied to this effect, and attached a picture of the blue and white Build-A-Bear box to her message.  
  
Mark's response, though predictable, made them both laugh so loudly that the old lady on the next table glared. It read: _I have a bad feeling about this._  
  
Still giggling, Claire leaned into Sören's arms. The sunlight gleamed on the sea as the train sped north, and she gave a sigh of contentment, glad to be going home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Road To Hells](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19992193) by [verhalen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verhalen/pseuds/verhalen)




End file.
